CG Issue 74 - Nov 2020

The

Cheese Grater

Issue 74 - Autumn 2020 cheesegratermagazine.org facebook.com/uclcheesegrater A second lockdown looms, but The Cheese Grater is here to save you from your woes with our first Autumn Issue!

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Inside this Issue: Module Mayhem, Voices: Isolation Diaries, In Defence of Covidian Freshers, The 25 Stages of Writing a Satire Article, and more...

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News & Investigations

Module mayhem marks the start of another academic year.

“I was rejected from a course because it was “full”, despite having already attended a seminar on the first day.”

Rusheen Bansal Much about 2020 has been unprecedented, putting students at increasing levels of stress. Yet UCL’s failure to properly manage module registration at the start of term was hardly surprising.

Although it has always been notoriously disordered, this year proved exceptionally worse. With UCL beginning the academic year later than most UK universities, citing the need for extra preparations for a smooth online experience, it begs the question: why was module registration still disorganised?

In an online survey conducted by The Cheese Grater Magazine, in which 50 participants responded, the mean rating of satisfaction with the management of module registration was a drab 5.29 out of 10. While 44% of the students were rejected from their chosen modules at the last minute, 56% of the ones who had been accepted had to write follow-up emails in order to be added to the module Moodle pages.

The personal accounts further shed a light on the administrative blunder.

One student noted that they were “rejected from 4 elective modules, with the 5th one unapproved a whole week into term 1,” while another missed class on the first day because their timetable was not updated on time. Being rejected from modules has unfortunately become a UCL staple for many, as one student reported, “I was told to wait until induction week to submit my module choices to ensure no clashes.

However, after doing so, I was rejected from my elective because it was already full. I was informed that modules were allocated on a first-come-first-serve basis, which meant that I did not get in because I waited too long, as was instructed by the department. This led me to now taking on two electives in

term 2 which will result in a hectic workload and many of my friends are in the same position.”

Another student recounted that, “all the students in my department, including myself, emailed the admin team because in order to do pre-tutorial tasks and attend tutorials in our optional modules, we required access to the Moodle pages, which we did not yet have. The department replied with a curt, “Sorry for the inconvenience! We have a lot on our plates and some modules might not be available on Moodle this week but that’s alright because the first week is not that important anyway””.

Nevertheless, some students were quite satisfied with the management: “I did get rejected from one module due to lack of spaces, but then a new seminar was created so that more people could join it.” The failure to properly manage module registrations also highlights the lack of potential for support from personal tutors during module selection. The administration asks students to submit their choices as soon as possible in the first week of September, while only giving access to advice regarding module selections in the first week of October.

The first-come-first-serve basis does not allow enough time for students to consult their tutors or consider their options, and could possibly lead to a greater number of requests for module changes later. This could be mitigated by allotting personal tutors as soon as a student enrols.

UCL’s hiring of “full-time module clickers” to combat the overload of requests begs the question as to why UCL hasn’t shifted to a completely automated module registration system like its American counterparts. An uncomplicated way to prevent last minute rejections would be to clarify the first-come-first-serve rule and create waitlists for each module, so that each student already has alternates picked out and can be switched in and out of classes efficiently. This saves time, money, and frustration experienced by countless students.

The continual failure of UCL to properly manage module selection and registration is revelatory of the University’s technological and administrative inefficacies. With issues occurring on an annual basis, UCL needs to implement systems to mitigate module-related problems in the future.

Riddhi Kanetkar Recently, a Labour motion to extend free school meals until Easter has been rejected by the government, by a margin of 61 votes. All but five Conservative MPs voted against funding FSM over the holidays for children in England. This decision is especially disheartening at a time when the nation is bracing itself for a second lockdown,

as we anticipate another season of uncertainty in these coming weeks.

Throughout this pandemic, thousands of frontline workers have dedicated their time to keeping the country functioning. The bonds of social responsibility have, in many ways, been the glue holding the nation together, which is why the government’s conscious inaction towards ensuring that

No child should have to go hungry during a pandemic.

Voices

school children are fed is a particularly malicious disjunction from the civic contributions made by so many.

As a student, I am – to say the least – dismayed by the government’s disregard for children. However, what is particularly pitiful is the ground on which they are defending their stance.

Chancellor Sunak’s claim that “money had been given to councils over summer” is redundant because that funding was expected to be depleted in 12 weeks. The delegated £63 million was not solely for feeding children during the holidays, and local councils have shown varying degrees of commitment to continuing free school meals, essentially turning this into a ‘postcode lottery’ for children.

Scrolling through my social media feeds following the parliamentary debate, I saw the footballer, Marcus Rashford, propelling a nation-wide initiative to combat the consequence of the government’s decision. Countless local businesses and restaurants, on top of food banks, offered to provide free meals for children during the holidays.

While these community-driven proposals show the exact compassion that the government appear to be lacking, it is unfortunately an untenable approach. In shifting the responsibility of welfare away from centralised govern-

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ment bodies, the public are once again reckoned with the moral duty of doing the government’s job for them.

Yet this decision will have significant impacts on local communities. Over in South London, a large majority of my neighbouring constituencies, including mine, are Conservative, and witnessing these MPs vote against the motion was especially nauseating. Children are not to blame for their financial situations, and in a borough with just under 25% of the population being under 17, young people have been let down. For the past seven months, students like myself have been neglected by the government, and their disregard for young people has unfortunately been an endemic mark of their authority.

I do not think this move was ideologically uncharacteristic of the Conservative government. Perhaps it was naïve of me to expect a change from the dismal trajectory of policies and strategies that have been implemented in recent months, but hope has been a driving force during the pandemic.

So I will continue to hope that we as a society can do whatever it takes in our power to protect the vulnerable, and to look out for one another even when we are failed by our political representatives.

Voices: Isolation Diaries.

Should I leave or should I go?

Jakob Kiessling Every day, between 9 PM and midnight, a man appears in my flat. He’s tall, approximately 40 years old and a complete stranger. Sometimes he brings his friends. They don’t knock, just peek into the kitchen and leave.

According to rumours, the main source of information at my hall, the nightly visits are for security reasons.

COVID-19 cases were rising and students at UCL accommodation were still having parties – an unfortunate

combination. So, security try to make sure that my flatmates and I don’t cram 25 drunk and potentially infectious people into our 15m2 kitchen.

Understandable, one could say, and, you know what, I might actually agree.

It’s just that I’d love to be informed when and why a stranger is going to invade my privacy and my flat. However, the unannounced and unexpected nightly visits are but one symptom of the uncertainty I wake up to every day.

No one has told me how many con-

Society Bitch This Halloween, Soc Bitch has never been more spooked than by the Grinch Boris who wants to steal Christmas with another confusing lockdown. Thankfully we’ve been too buzzed on homemade cosmopolitans for that to matter. So to clarify for Bojo, here are Soc Bitch’s lockdown rules: it’s fine to ask that guy you talk to on Tinder to be ‘a part of your bubble’ – no you can’t sneak the last can of chickpeas in Morrison’s out of the trolley of a starving old man – yes you can take up creative hobbies like poetry – no you can’t expect your social media following to enjoy your clichéd drivel. Wow, it isn’t hard to be concise – maybe SB should run for PM? The EFS had a breaking announcement for the LGBTQ community last month: apparently you’re gay if you don’t want to go to Camden Maccie’s at 5am. And apparently, it’s vice-presidential to call freshers ‘soft cunts’ in a WhatsApp group chat. Following the VP’s WhatsApp announcement, uproar from EFS new members has led to his resignation. The EFS released a statement condemning his behaviour, for ambition needs direction and that direction is a sharp U turn. And the EFS, an allegedly ‘prestigious’ society, has been riddled with corruption this term.

Soc Bitch can reveal a certain someone was removed from the committee who just so happened to be one of the very few people to know about the top-secret relationship between the president and one of the vices. And of course the committee had no say in this decision – what do they know? They had a VP who texted a bunch of 18-year olds that they were ‘gay’ at 2am because they wouldn’t share his sad drooping fries with him.

Can 2020 just be over, please?

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firmed COVID cases there are at my halls.

The current COVID rules are vague.

Whether or not you have to socially distance in your own flat depends on the security guy’s mood when he pops in for his visit. No one seems to care about the virus in the hallways, though, where people like to wear their masks anywhere but on their face.

Things are chaotic now and I’m not sure I want to know what they’re going to be like in a few weeks’ time. I’m not even confident that UCL accommodation has a plan for when the inevitable lockdown hits.

Being a fresher at university in this stupendously horrible year is a lonely experience. We’re in for a new round of self-isolation every few weeks, and us internationals don’t even know if we’ll

Voices

be home for Christmas. The lack of communication from our halls leaves us with nothing to answer the question that is constantly on our minds: should we stay or should we leave now while it is still possible?

Leaving – the prospect of two weeks of self-isolation when I come back here (no people, no kitchen, nothing) is daunting. No one wants to lose their first tentative friendships, so difficult to find in these isolating times. Staying – well, we don’t know what life in halls is going to look like during lockdown.

If I stay, will I be stuck here? Will I have to spend the holidays alone and away from my family? I’ve never been a particularly emotional guy, but that thought is terrifying.

One thing is for certain, though. We are getting closer to lockdown. It hap-

pens all the time now; a flatmate with symptoms, rumours of more cases in the halls - a fresh reason to freak out every few days.

All things considered, leaving might just be the sensible thing to do, but whenever I decide to pack my bags first thing in the morning, the next day is sunny and I actually hang out with someone without getting drenched to the bone. That’s when I realize once more that I’m in London – the city is just outside my door – and suddenly I don’t want to leave anymore, no matter what.

It’s a lot to consider, a lot to decide, and it would all be easier if communication at the halls of accomodation was just a bit smoother. After all, we need as much certainty as we can get in these uncertain times.

Remote learning and isolation: my own thoughts.

Eleanor King 2019 and 2020 have been two binaries for me. The joy of finally graduating with an English Literature degree from the University of Cambridge was quickly met with uncertainty, as with most graduates, about where my life

was heading next. Summer 2019 was a whirlwind of working abroad, catching flights on my own for the first time, and exploring new cities with my favourite people - all the while wondering how to make a career out of travelling, my favourite hobby.

2020, I guess you could say, quite literally grounded those plans.

But I have another great love - the world of digital media. I am fascinated by how the realm of media is a roaring voice of empowerment, a place where users can stay connected and united in

Voices

an age of increasing isolation. It is this overspilling of the digital world into the “real” world to advocate change that makes me truly proud to be a young person in today’s uncertain climate.

Enrolling into a Masters course at UCL’s Institute of Education to explore this was therefore euphoric for me - I couldn’t wait to find a home in a new and exciting city, and immerse myself in London’s vast culture. I envisioned myself using the Tube, grabbing coffee with friends, and studying outside in the summer against the backdrop of the majestic Wilkins Building.

But, to throw in another curveball, this would be all conducted online.

2020 once more rearing its unpredictable head.

Now in a cruelly ironic twist, one would think that the Covid-19 “working remotely” reality would be a dream for a digital media student, a real-life case study, a petri dish in which we could explore in real-time the effects of distance learning. And having written my undergraduate dissertation about the effects of screen mediation, this is surely right up my street, right? I can assure you that this is not the case.

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As I sit at home, the disembodied voices of my lecturers and my fellow classmates ringing out of my laptop, I cannot help but feel cheated. Cheated out of the opportunity to meet these wonderful people in real life, and thwarted from the chance to form intimate connections with my peers. Suddenly, both academics and students are one - united by not only our passion for our subject, but also the incessant “technical difficulties” that spring into this new reality. Now, connection issues disjoint our seminars, the flow of our conversations interrupted by our faces and voices freezing and jumping. This chaos is coupled with the overwhelmingly full Microsoft Teams sessions which wouldn’t feel nearly as crowded if we were seated in person side by side.

Suddenly, our vocabulary has been dominated by the words “Zoom” and “Breakout Rooms.” We are plagued by digital fatigue, a newfound condition that has infiltrated our daily lives. We are, to put it simply, exhausted.

And yet amongst this chaos, the new student life feels empty. Isolated.

Distanced in more ways than one. Not only have I started the next step of

my academic journey from my childhood bedroom, but I face beloved social events over webcam. I think about the wasted potential for more exciting in-person events with a heavy heart, wondering, “what if things had been different?” There is a blank space where the human interaction element of university should be. And honestly, at this moment in time, I feel like I have taken a massive step backwards.

I long to grab a seat in a lecture hall, breathless and with minutes to spare until it begins, and chat to the person seated next to me. I even miss the “when-things-go-wrong” scenarios - sitting in the wrong lecture hall, a humanities student surrounded by economists. While online lectures are still enriching, there is a massive elephant in the room for generation e-learning: the impact that this year of isolation has had on our mental health. Pessimism is very real at the moment, and it is deafening.

Covid-19 has stolen some life events from us. For me, the ability to meet my classmates in person, as we all tune into our lectures and seminars from all over the globe. Yet it has given me hope as well, in showing the resilience of the human spirit in the face of disarray. I realise that the UCL community transcends physical location, and I am greatly comforted. Now, I have learnt to laugh as our seminars spiral into a tangent about how to create Breakout Rooms, as I realise that this is a learning curve for everybody. Having to rely on Zoom calls for society meetings means that we are all aware of the need to be kinder, more understanding, and more forgiving when things do go wrong.

And, ultimately, it gives me comfort that when the UCL community does reunite, it will be more meaningful than ever before. As a new resident of this global family, I cannot wait.

Contributors to this issue: Sophia Robinson, Riddhi Kanetkar, Rob Davidson, Ella Ticktin-Smith, Eleanor King, Rusheen Bansal, Jakob Kiessling, Eleanor Corney, Vaania Achuthan, Cristina Arama, Matilda Sykes, Adam Bloss, Jennnie Howitt, Maryam Badghisi, Molly Edwards, Emilia Pearson.

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Voices

The cost of isolation for working-class students.

Eleanor Corney Being a student is hard - that goes without saying. Being a student in the middle of a pandemic is even harder.

This year, due to COVID, I decided to stay at home, with the hopes of commuting into campus. As the situation with the virus evolved, things changed.

Suddenly, my idea of ‘commuting’ was morphed into travelling from the sofa to the kitchen to fill up my water bottle. All of my classes are online and all in-person events have been cancelled.

I came to university with the hopes of finding lifelong friends to make memories with, yet instead I have received a package of crippling loneliness and internet connection problems. Additionally, being from a working-class area has added to the existing difficulties of the situation. There is not much to do in Dagenham. There aren’t many places in which I could meet others, leaving me isolated in my room. Mental health funding here is extremely low, with 45% of patient referrals being closed before any treatment is provided.

I have suffered with my mental health, notably with anxiety and de-

pression, from a young age, but my problems have been further exacerbated by looking at my computer screen alone for hours on end. Making plans with friends seems like a mission for me, as I need to factor in travel costs, commute times and whether I’d be home in time for my next class. As a working-class student, finding money for travel has almost acted as a double restriction for me.

Not only do I need to consider the cost of commuting, but also the cost of socialising. Especially in London, few things are inexpensive. Having to deal with that has been difficult, and I often sit and scroll mindlessly through social media, wondering why everyone else but me seems to be having such a ‘fun time’. Observing the way others are living through a screen can often catalyse a spiral of anxious thoughts. Are they having fun because I’m not there?

Should I abandon my work and go and join them? Not only am I having to battle with a never-ending stream of work to do, but it’s also coupled with an intense fear of missing out. Although I am immensely glad I stayed at home, it

can feel incredibly isolating.

However, this is an issue that many students are facing, regardless of their living situation.

The COVID restrictions and the immense workload are partners in crime.

They leave students filled with anxiety and dread. A study published in The Telegraph has shown that Nightline, a phone line run by student volunteers, has reported an increased number of calls this year. Additionally, there have already been a number of deaths on various campuses this year, according to the National Union of Students.

I feel as though the strain that students are under, caused by having to deal with this new method of online teaching as well as the isolation, has to be recognised. More funding should be provided to academic institutions, so there isn’t a waiting list for necessary mental health support, especially during these unprecedented times. To any student who feels the same as I do, rest assured there will be someone to listen to you.

You are not alone.

Vaania Achuthan Ever since students have moved into halls at the start of the term, reports on student suicides and suicide ideation have been on a surge. These feelings are further exacerbated when students are made to isolate, with little to no readily available resources to cater to their mental health. Recently, in a UCL Halls of Residence, a suicide incident was closely prevented jointly by members of that flat and the Metropolitan Police force.

On the day that we found out that this incident took place, I was taken aback. The first thought that came to my mind was, “Thank god the win-

dows have locks”. This was a wakeup call, as we all rushed to each other’s rooms, and embraced in a warm hug, despite the fear of COVID. Perhaps at that time, we’d rather be a victim of COVID than let our flatmates fall prey to suicide, for the latter had a sense of guilt and responsibility tied to it which will never fade away.

Since then, our bonds with members of our flat have grown extensively; the memory of this incident looms in the back of our heads, and fear echoes throughout. We have started spending more time around one another by cooking together or watching movies.

We also started studying together- be

it at Pret or at one of the many UCL Libraries. Further, this experience prompted us to be more aware and sensitive to our fellow flat mates, as we regularly check up on them and try and help out, in any way possible. Such small yet significant changes can truly make a person feel that they belong and prevent alienation, so I urge all students living in Halls to try and engage in more activities with their flat mates.

While the COVID pandemic has taken us two steps away from those not in our household, it has also brought us two steps closer to those in it. I can only be grateful that my household includes some of my closest friends, and

Extended family: halls and isolation- and how you can overcome it.

Voices

although we have only met a little over a month ago, I truly believe that if we can withstand a deadly virus together, our bonds are unbreakable. Perhaps in a way I am grateful that we get to spend so much time together as I can only speculate that had this pandemic not have occurred, we would not have

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been able to build such close-knit relationships.

As an international student myself, I was overwhelmed with fear prior to moving into Halls, particularly because I was moving in with a bunch of strangers. However, I now know that I have people I can always talk to- all I have to

A letter from the Editor-in-Chief.

We wouldn’t be The Cheese Grater Magazine if we didn’t begin another academic year with yet another controversy. It has come to my attention that the Not Cool Collective took issue with a humour graphic we recently published about them. As Editor-inChief, I would like to take the opportunity to address some of their concerns to our devoted readers.

Firstly, The Cheese Grater wholly recognises the seriousness of the issue of sexual harassment. In fact, our 2017 piece on the topic was one of the main contributing factors to the creation of the Zero Tolerance Sexual Harassment Policy at UCL and we fully intend to

tackle this pervasive issue in the future.

However, our post was clearly criticising the NCC’s marketing and promotional approaches, and we do not believe that any reasonable reading could result in interpreting it as making light of sexual harassment.

Moreover, the NCC expressed concern that our graphic appeared too legitimate and may be mistaken for a genuine NCC post. As Editor, I must second the NCC’s ‘kudos’ to the wonderful graphics contributors to the magazine. However, I and The Cheese Grater Magazine team have complete faith that the broader UCL community has the intelligence to differentiate be-

do is knock on their doors.

My family back in my country of birth have been extremely concerned, their concern stemming from a place of jealousy, as they have now realized that I’ve got another family, my extended Halls of Residence family.

tween serious and satirical content.

Being extra cautious, nonetheless, we do mitigate any confusion by sorting our pieces into ‘Investigations’, ‘Voices’ and ‘Humour’ sections. Hopefully, these are clear enough to suffice.

I know that the NCC have been keen to respond to criticism in the past, and therefore I would like to end this brief letter by extending a humble invitation to the NCC to join The Cheese Grater Magazine for an interview. We sincerely hope they accept.

Finally, I would like to thank all of our dedicated readers who enjoy our content. We hope you continue to delight in our work, both humorous and earnest.

Sophia Robinson, Editor-in-Chief.

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Humour

In Defence of Covidian Freshers (by Fresher).

If one more gloating third year looks at me sadly, sighs and says: “I just feel so bad for you”, or “You’re so brave for going into halls this year”, or “It just must be so weird for you”, I am going to explode. With my mask on.

What poor sods we must be. Stuck in our rooms. Not out being debauched legends like you were in your first year.

We get it.

We may not have met loads of new people, granted. Or gotten a sense of our new area. Or stepped foot inside our university campus. Or met our teachers. Or the people on our course.

Or had any human contact at all. Butlet me tell you about some of the perks.

Yes, there are perks.

While you were getting ready for your big night out, we learnt whether

we preferred our books chronologically, alphabetically, Dewey decimally, sizewisely, or colour-coded-ly organised.

While you were getting off with nine random people a night, we developed trusting, steadfast relationships with the security guards who brought us our food. They despise us.

While you were on the Kate Moss diet, we gained nine and a half stone using the £280 Uber Eats voucher for isolation.

While you were struggling to hand in your first assignment, we joined four hundred and twenty-three different societies and wrote eighty-four satirical pieces for five different student magazines (publication status pending).

While you were staggering back at 5am laughing with all your new friends about the night’s antics, we were up after a full eight hours sleep to hear the shipping forecast.

While you were meeting your teachers in real life, we learnt about the intricacies of their living room wall. We have also been able to gauge which ones are worth our time and which ones are fakers by the number of books they have in shot.

So, before you go boasting about the benefits of your ‘gorgeous’ shared flat in Holloway, just remember that I’m not the one writing a dissertation this year.

How I Recreated the Freshers Experience Living with my Parents.

By Billy Fresher, big shot journalist Hey there fellow youths. It’s me, Billy Fresher. I’ve been dropping in and out of first year since 2013 and while most years I pretend I’ve never experienced Freshers’ Week before, this year I thought I’d use my aged wisdom to recreate what usually happens, but with Mum and Dad. Here’s how: Let’s start with the basics. First off,

I took part in a homemade Studio 338 F*ck Me It’s Freshers event, which I prepared for by spraying myself with a healthy dose of Lynx Africa. I then sat on my sofa for the same duration as the journey from Euston Square to Greenwich, had a quick boogie with the dog, whacked my head on the wall, and then fell asleep on the Tube/sofa back.

Quality night. Plus, the semi-serious head injury was perfect for recreating a crashing hangover in the morning.

Next up it was time to meet my halls neighbours. Mrs Price from next door didn’t appreciate me going round with a crate of Stellas and a beer funnel, even though I made it very clear we could still be socially distanced because

Humour

The Cheese Grater Autumn 2020 9

the funnel splits into two tubes. Not to worry - rejection is a normal part of the Freshers’ experience.

On Wednesday I hopped onto the Student Union’s ‘Welcome Fair’ and I have to admit they really nailed the usual vibe. Queuing up for four hours and not actually getting in? Yes my slime. To everyone at the Union: you aced it. I ended up watching Pi Media’s 7 minute promo video the next day, which felt like it lasted much longer than those four hours, but feeling a sense of desperation is also a normal part of Freshers week, so I’ll take it.

The last part of my recreation really stumped me - how was I to feel the symptoms of freshers’ flu without 300 people from across the world converging in a lecture hall? Turns out I needn’t have worried, because Mrs Price gave me coronavirus.

Just like my first first year, my eighth first year is gonna be *legendary*, but this time I won’t get scurvy because Mum’s feeding me #win #BillysBackBaby.

Have you played Among Us?

I have enough imposter syndrome as it is

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Humour

The 25 Stages of Writing a Satire Article.

Conservatives Against Capitalism? Schools to Ban Use of Tory Resources in Teaching.

Last night, the government announced that English schools will no longer be able to use materials from organisations which have articulated anti-capitalist views.

After nobly highlighting the need to preserve freedom of speech, Department of Education guidelines went on to suggest that all groups that have ever supported overthrowing capitalism should absolutely not be spoken about in any way whatsoever.

However, Tory politicians may have shot themselves in the feet. With a quick google search, and the fabrication discovery of previously unknown sources, The Cheese Grater has found key evidence to suggest that the Conservative Party is in fact an anti-capital-

ist organisation.

At a party conference in 2009, Dominic Cummings was recorded saying: “It’s not good…… the capitalist system……”, while in 1981, Margaret Thatcher allegedly published a short poem including the line “The Free Market…..utter shit...I love… the miners”. * Moreover, several damning photos of David Cameron have also emerged.

In one particularly shocking snap, he was pictured relaxing at home wearing a red t-shirt with the phrase “Live, Laugh, Revolt” ironed onto the front.

This will mean that no resources (such as pamphlets, manifestos and speeches) associated with the Conservative Party can be used for teach-

1. Brainstorm 2. Research 3. Is there anything interesting at UCL? 4. Jezzzzaaaa 5. Contemplation of daily routine 6. How do I make this objectively funny?

7. Look around my workspace 8. Search for something to parody 9. Find a vague concept 10. Build a metaliterary title 11. Realise that the concept already exists because it was the last thing you’ve just read 12. Conclude that nothing is original 13. Internal post-modernist debate 14. Imagined interview with James Corden 15. The audience is duly impressed 16. Misery 17. A trip to the kitchen 18. Check social media (“inspiration”) 19. Commemoration of Vine 20. Notice it’s 2AM 21. Inspiration strikes 22. My first draft is the final draft 23. Last read-through 24. Self-pity 25. Word count: 131 ing in English schools. In fact, ‘public speaking’ after-school clubs around the country have reportedly already begun to substitute “We Will Fight Them on the Beaches” with iconic speech “My Name is Maximus” from Ridley Scott’s award-winning film Gladiator.

Of course, The Cheese Grater has suspected this kind of hypocrisy for years. After reaching out to Britain’s head teachers to ask what they made of the discovery, Mr Jones (West Yorkshire School for Girls) commented: “It simply shows that the Tories are un-

Humour

The Cheese Grater Autumn 2020 11

fit to govern this country. First they couldn’t make their mind up on a Brexit deal, and now they don’t even know if they support capitalism. If anything, I think this calls for socialist revolution – whether Boris will join us or not”. *Full quotes have been shortened for clarity.

Masters Students Upset that Postgraduate Study is Difficult.

A fresh academic year has just begun, but some students have already found a horrid shock in store for them. After receiving tip-offs from anonymous postgrads at UCL, The Cheese Grater can exclusively reveal this breaking scandal: Master’s degrees are not easy.

“Yeah, I just wasn’t expecting it, I

guess”, one 21-year-old postgraduate told The Cheese Grater. With tears in her eyes, she estimated that she has been assigned seven papers per module every week. “That’s like, what, 400 pages a week? And not even the sort where the last ten pages are footnotes!”.

But the nasty surprises don’t end

That One Annoying Guy at The Front of The Lecture Hall Is Struggling to Convey Just How Much He Knows Over Zoom.

The situation this year has put stress on all of us, in every facet of our lives.

Yet few have found the change in lecturing format more emotionally taxing than that guy who sat in the front pretending he knew as much as the lecturer. He can no longer show you that he’s clearly not paying attention to what the lecturer is saying, and it’s proving a heavy burden to bear.

While you may be thinking “God, I’m 5 weeks behind already, how in bloody hell am I going to get all this coursework in on time?”, I’d recommend you count your blessings. That

guy has already had resort to typing paragraphs in the chat about how his work placement taught him something that is barely even tangential to the lecture, and he’s even having to ask questions that have already been answered five minutes previously.

So, while you are sitting there thinking about your ‘struggles’, just remember there are some that have it much, much worse.

And yes, we all noticed the influence of Freud in that novel, Stephan.

there for students: “Not only is it a lot of reading, but like, I don’t understand it. I literally don’t understand what any of it means. The words are too long”, another source tells The Cheese Grater.

Evidently, UCL failed to communicate any of this to prospective students: “At no point was I told that getting smashed five days a week was simply not an option anymore. I mean yeah, they said it would be harder than undergrad, but this is just taking the piss.” UCL have declined to make a statement.

Fortunately, it seems that some students have found ways to deal with their misfortune. A source tells us: “Everything is on Zoom now, so I just pretend I’m having technical difficulties when the teacher asks me something”.

12 Autumn 2020 The Cheese Grater

UCL Cheese Grater Magazine Society President—Rob Davidson Editor-in-Chief—Sophia Robinson Investigations Editor—Riddhi Kanetkar Humour Editor—Ella Ticktin-Smith Online Editor—Adam Bloss Graphics Editor—Maryam Badghisi

president@cheesegratermagazine.org editor@cheesegratermagazine.org investigations@cheesegratermagazine.org humour@cheesegratermagazine.org online@cheesegratermagazine.org